When You Say Nothing At All
by dizzy - in - the - izzy
Summary: Actions can speak louder than words, and for Tony and Ziva words have no meaning at all sometimes. Tiva through the basic five senses, mainly fluff.
1. Sounds From The Heart

**Hey! Since I enjoyed Every Little Thing SO much, and I've had a request to write a song fic, I thought I'd put my need for Tiva fluff and that song together. This isn't a song fic, more of a fic that grew out of the meaning to a song. If you listen to 'When You Say Nothing At All' you'll understand.**

**This will have five chapters, each a different basic sense humans have. I can't make it any longer, and it won't be any shorter. I'll be doing hearing, sight, taste, smell, and touch. Not in that order(I think). Basically Tiva fluff, with the insight from Tony's eyes. I like writing him better than Ziva for some reason.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, even the senses. That would be hard to do though... trademark them as your own. You'd have to be god.....**

**Dedication: daddiesgirlovesdlcalerictiva, because she was the one to suggest a song fic, and then my brain went off on me and we get this. This is for you.**

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_Hearing__ (or __audition__) is one of the traditional five __senses__. It is the ability to perceive __sound__ by detecting vibrations via an organ such as the __ear__._

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There was something about the way she breathed, well into the night. Sometimes I would lay my head on her chest, just to hear her lungs fill and empty. It was a calming sound, which made me smile. I loved knowing she was alive, and that she was next to me. I enjoyed listening to her mumble in her sleep, and the occasional sigh. When she talked in her sleep, she would sometimes say my name. It was in a voice I had never heard, in an octave I had never heard her voice dip into.

I listened to her day and night, cataloging every noise she made. She didn't even have to speak; I always knew what she meant. When we were in bed, she would blow air through her teeth when she wanted to be held. It was her way of saying she was cold, and wanted someone to keep her warm. Other times, she would tap her finger to her open mouth, making a hollow sound. I could be anywhere in our apartment, and I would hear it. She was telling me she was hungry. I learned that when she sighed in a certain way, as if she was too content for words, she was telling me she loved me.

And, oh, her sex sounds. Who _didn't_ like sex sounds? Not only did I get to confirm she was a screamer, which was pretty arousing in itself, but she had this collection of the most amazing sounds. There was this special, almost whimper like sound afterwards, that was followed by her blowing air out between her teeth. It was her way of saying, she was content, and she just wanted to relax.

I never got over the way she growled at her computer. I would be sitting at my desk, throwing paper balls at McGee, when all of a sudden we'd both hide behind our desks. I would smirk at McGee's face, and yell out in pain as an eraser would hit my head. We would watch as she made face after face, and she would growl repeatedly. Occasionally objects would fly over and hit my head, just proving how angry she was at electronics. But then again, I think she enjoyed hearing me whimper.

It was the things she didn't say, when words failed us and we ended up just sitting in the dark. There were times when I thought she was giving me the silent treatment, when in reality she was just talking to me in a different way. I enjoyed trying to figure what her newest sound meant. She had so many; it was a miracle she came up with new ones.

I think others knew that we didn't have to use words. It was pretty obvious when we would start a conversation in the middle, leaving everyone out of the loop. I think their reaction was priceless; the astonished look, tilting of the head, and amazed gasps. And sometimes, a slight slap to the back of the head, a la Gibbs. She would smirk at me, and I would glare at her. Silently saying 'ha ha' to each other.

It was ironic really. I have heard countless people say that communication is key in a relationship. You need to communicate to understand your significant others wants, what their feelings or displeasures are.

Funny thing was; when we didn't speak, we said the most.

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**I adore their non speaking communication, and I had to do the first chapter of this on that.**

**Tell me what you think, please? I'm leaving soon, and I'll be back late late late tonight. 10 at the latest, so leave me reviews and all of that good stuff. No matter what though, I'm continuing this fic. I adore this idea. It's my babyyy. :D**

**-Izzy.**


	2. Smells Like Lusting Days

**Oh my gosh, thank you all for the reviews! They made me smile, and I usuallly respond to all of them, but my brother was on the computer so I had to use my iTouch, which I wasn't going to respond to them on. So, for now, thank you guys. :)**

**I am going to write one in Ziva's POV. I think it's touch... I'm not sure yet haha. I couldn't help myself with this chapter, even though I really want to not take this really fast. It is only going to be five chapters. :( Less than Every Little Thing, which I kind of miss haha.**

**Disclaimer: *sings* I have to update, every other thing. Because I haven't updated in a while, and it's time it's time, it's time. :)**

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Olfaction (also known as olfactics or smell) refers to the _sense__ of smell. It is mediated by specialized sensory cells of the nasal cavity of vertebrates, and, by analogy, sensory cells of the antennae of invertebrates.  
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I was used to woman's perfumes. They were all different, and some even gave me headaches they were so strong. I knew which ones I liked, the ones that stuck with me and I was glad to be surrounded in. I figured out the name, and remembered it. So I could compliment a woman, and impress them with my knowledge of what scent they were wearing. Some woman liked it, others got a little bit of a strange look on their face. But, never in my life, had I been truly intoxicated. No, that was a lie.

Ziva intoxicated me, beyond my own belief. She had this smell, like nothing I had ever smelt. However, when asked to describe, I was stumped. Like telling someone how water tastes. Completely impossible, and not worth my time. It wasn't like they really needed to know. They wouldn't ever either. No, to get the true essence of Ziva, you had to smell four different things.

One was first thing in the morning. She didn't have morning breath, amazingly, but first thing in the morning, before she got up to go on her run, she had this smell. It wasn't something I thought a woman could have. She smelled like cotton sheets, and me. It was amazing, because some nights we hadn't even been that close in the bed. But somehow, she had been close enough to smell like my cologne and shaving cream. It took me a while, but soon I learned it was because she would slip on one of my shirts. I wasn't awake enough to notice. One morning, her jumping out of bed awaked me, having slept through her alarm. I smirked at her when I saw my shirt covering her body. And _only_ my shirt.

After her shower, and all the steam filled the room, was another smell all together. Her shampoo's scent was called 'ocean breeze', and was a clean smell. It was calming and reminded me of those happy summers in Italy, exploring and goofing off on the beach. Whenever I walked in there, I could smell it everywhere, and I would sit on the counter and just breathe in. She would get walk out of the shower and smack my arm. That was when I could smell her body wash, something that knocked me off my feet. Her body wash was calm, but in a different way. It didn't remind me of summers, it reminded me of ice cream and pastries. Coffee too, but not Gibbs' coffee. No, probably more of a caramel latte. I read the label one day, and I cracked a smile. Vanilla bean with a hint of caramel seemed to be my favorite scent.

When she was finally ready, she added a new scent. I noticed that she put some lavender perfume on her wrists. One day when she patted my cheek, I turned my face and sniffed her wrist. It added another scent to her essence, something different that worked with the rest of her.

And on those nights when we ended up staying up all night, breaking in the sheets, she smelled like ocean breeze, vanilla bean with a hint of caramel, and lavender mixed with sweat and sex. Also mixed in there was what I smelled like, but that wasn't as amazing as what she smelled like. On those nights, I couldn't help myself afterwards, and I'd rest my head on her stomach. I would weave my arm around her waist, and her hand would rest on my cheek. I could smell her all around me, and it made me smile as I drifted off to sleep.

One of the best things was; the next day we would start all over again. However, this time, I got to wake up to her smelling like skin and sex.

Sometimes her natural smell, with no shampoo, body wash, or perfume, was better than anything else.

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**I just can totally imagine Tony being intoxicated by Ziva's scent. I can really see it.**

**Oh, and while watching 'Dog Tags' again, because I bought it off iTunes, I saw this part where Ziva uses the file she is holding to hit Tony's butt. I laughed really hard. I love that episode. :) *sigh* I've decided to watch the Truman Show..... again. :) LOVE this movie.**

**Reviews por favor? This time I'll try to respond to all of them... or the ones that deserve responding. Leave me a long review. I ADORE those. :D**

**-Izzzzy.**


	3. Loving Touch Of Heart

**You guys should feel lucky that I updated on my birthday haha. I wasn't going to update ANYTHING today and take the day off, and then tomorrow before I go out for dinner with my BFF, I was going to update. But, this was half finished, and who can RESIST Tiva fluff..... Hayley would disagree. Haha. AND, AND! Today is actually kind of nice! I went for a walk with me puppy.**

**Okay, enough of me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**_READ THIS_: While reading this chapter, think that beginning of this chapter is early on in their relationship, and as the writing progresses so does their relationship.**_  
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_Touch consists both of sensory receptors and sensory (afferent) neurones in the periphery (skin, muscle and organs for example), to deeper neurones within the central nervous system._

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In public, we rarely touched. The only time we actually were touching was when we were standing next to each other, less than a foot apart.

There wasn't a lot of hugging between us. I would always see couples giving each other huge hugs, which lasted for minutes. The only time we were _that_ close, we were in bed. And at first, it wasn't a nightly thing for us to fall asleep in each others arms. It depended on how many times in that day we had little arguments, or whether or not we were up to it. It, being; the bigger person and taking the step forward to hold the other.

That was strange too. I had always seen him so confident in his ways. He had that air of smugness, as if he was great and the best. So, imagine my surprise, when he looked nervous to _kiss_ me. I hadn't seen any hesitation when we were undercover as assassins. Although, that was over four years ago now. I always said that was sexual tension, something different from actual adoration or love. Nonetheless, I found it sweet when he would show that weakness, the one that caused him to be very very nervous about holding me. Maybe it was because he knew I could kill him without him knowing until his world went black. Or, possibly, it was because of our usual demeanor, one that caused us to refrain from talking about feelings or being sensitive. The only time we got caring with each other, we were being mean; hurtful words and snide remarks hiding our care but at the same time showing it.

We just never took the time to think it out, and figure it out.

I couldn't deny that I liked being held though. At times, that was all I wanted. I wanted him close to me, and I wanted the security and protectiveness that his arms created. I never asked though. No, I used what he called, jokingly, our lack of communication. He somehow knew that when I blew air through my teeth, I wanted to be held. Sometimes at work, on accident, I would make that noise, and I could see his hands itching on his desk. They would move an inch or so, and I could see him stop himself from getting up. It was a natural reaction for him. We got better as our relationship went on, but for us, it wasn't that touchy feely. We did get to a point that we could give each other non-awkward hugs. At night, though, it became a routine that we would wrap ourselves around each other. I liked laying my head on his chest, and twisting my legs around his leg. He would wrap his arms around me, and we would fall asleep.

However, that was a good six years into our romantic relationship. It took a while to get there.

We did have another type of communication, besides sounds. It sounds cliché, but I could calm him with a hand on the shoulder, a reassuring pat on the back, or a more intimate touch to the temples. It took me forever, but I convinced him to stop over gelling his hair. I liked it soft, and free. I enjoyed running my fingers through it during our lovemaking. I loved the feeling of his muscles contracting as I ran my fingers down his back. I loved the reaction I got, the way I could control him and get his attention by saying nothing. I learned that I didn't need to threaten his life to make him shut up. All I had to do was move my fingers to his hand, above his pressure point. He would freeze, and his mouth would shut. It was a great power, as McGee put it.

And I wasn't the sole holder of that power either. Sometimes during my angry tirades, to save everyone from getting a knife thrown at them, he would gently put his hand on the side of my face, making me look at him. It didn't take long for his thumb running smoothly over my skin and his hand on my waist to calm me down, and I would apologize for my lack of control. After he told me it was alright, he would tousle my hair and go back to work.

The only thing that brought me back to reality was a cough from McGee and a smirk from Gibbs.

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**Leave me nice, long, funny reviews. Or reviews that will make me smile widely. :)**

**And, check out Silent Falling Rains new oneshot, about Ziva's birthday. :D Review it, and say HI from izzy. :D :D**


	4. The Sight Of A Sunrise

**I just realized that this is the second to last chapter... :( The next one will be the last. I'm out of cute ideas too. Damn. Anyone got any ideas, bounce them off me. Haha. A little, oneshot collection idea. I love doing these the best. :) Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter too. Reviews always make me smile. :) That and seeing that my favorite authors either updated, or they've written a new thing I can review on *wink wink***

**Disclaimer: Ha, I could own Wikipedia, where I get the definitions. I could own the senses(woo), and I could own... wait I do own that. Nvm.**

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_Visual perception__ is the ability to interpret information from __visible light__ reaching the __eye__. The resulting __perception__ is also known as __eyesight__, __sight__ or __vision__._

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I was told by Abby that we really see upside down. But our brain, the wonderful things that they are, flips the image for us. I said she was lying, and she shook her head. So, for the rest of the day I walked around telling that to whoever would listen. When I told Ziva, she scoffed at me. She curved at the waist so she was upside down.

"How do I look?" She teased.

I would never tell her, in fear of castration, but even bent at the waist, with her hair falling off her face and her neck exposed, she looked fantastic. She looked better than fantastic, but I couldn't think of a word that captured that kind of beauty. Because it was more than breath taking, and that was the highest word I knew.

I never told her that when she hadn't slept for days, and didn't look as bad as I made her off to be. She looked beautiful, but in a different way. I wanted to comfort her, but me being stupid got in the way of that. I never told her when in LA, but she looked great in that green shirt. And that bikini…

She looked great all the time, don't get me wrong. She was always wearing something that made her look pretty, beautiful, stunning, adorable, sexy, breath taking, amazing. All of those things. She rarely looked average. It was something that I loved about her. She just couldn't look average. She was a sexy, Israeli assassin. That is _not_ normal. Even when she wore Hello Kitty pajama (something Abby had to practically force on her), she looked good. Even though she said she felt like a petunia, and I corrected her to say pansy. However, she didn't look like a pansy.

I learned to love the sight of her even more when we started dating. When I first woke up to see her lying across from me in the bed, only wearing a camisole and underwear, I just stared at her for a minute. The sight of her enamored me. I couldn't get over how even when she wasn't wearing any make up, and her hair was a mess she could look so _hot_. Especially when she was wearing just a thin shirt and underwear. I would make myself wake up before she did some mornings, just to see her like that. She said she felt awful, and would hide her face under the pillow. She'd curl up into the fetal position with the pillow over her face, and then she'd look cute.

There were times when she thought she looked bad in which I thought she looked wonderful. One night on a stakeout, she somehow got covered in dust. It was impossible to get off her hair and clothes, and the only thing she managed to get clean was her face. For the rest of the night, she complained about ugly she looked. I told her she looked great, and she shouldn't worry. She glared at me for a while, saying I was completely lying. It took all night for me to convince her she looked fine.

It wasn't just the sight of her that made me smile. Knowing that I could look at her all the time did. Knowing that she was mine, and I could look at her with out anyone protesting (even Gibbs) made me smile. As time went on, and she got more accustomed to me staring at her for hours, she would mess with me. She'd move her hair so it blocked my view of her face, and she started to wear baggier shirts. So I would reach over and push her hair off her face, and off her neck. She'd glare at me, and then she'd move it back. It was a game of ours, one that involved my want to just stare at her, and her laughing at me as she messed with me. She would say I had to have permission to stare at her for hours, and I'd laugh.

"I don't need permission. I'm your husband, Zee-vah."

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**A little shorter, I might say. I noticed the word count was low haha. Although, I think this is perfectly cute. And I'm feeling humorous and silly right now. That is why hello kitty pj's are in there. I hate those too. My sister has a pair haha.**

**Went summer clothes shopping. Yee for shorts and camis haha. Now, to make my day perfect, I updated this. I'm good for a couple days. :)**

**Review(dont' forget to maybe give me an idea. It doesn't matter what you say, I'll get something. that is how my brain works.)**

**Till the last chapter, Izzy.**


	5. Taste's Like Sweet Desire

_Taste refers to the ability to detect the __flavor__ of substances such as __food__, certain __minerals__, and __poisons__._

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Ziva would kill me for ever thinking she tasted good. I mean, thinking she smelled good was one thing, and the whole thinking 'she-looked-hot-covered-in-dust' is another, but I'm pretty sure she'd kill me for thinking she tasted good. But, what can I say? If I said she tasted like over cooked fish covered in dirt, she'd kill me too. However, she didn't taste like over cooked fish covered in dirt.

Her kisses tasted like whatever she was eating at the time, and strawberry gum. Always like strawberry gum. That, or just plain strawberries. Strawberries, strawberries, strawberries. Something's never got old. I didn't like strawberries that much, but I would kiss Ziva over and over again just to taste them. There were times after she ate a spicy meal that I'd kiss her cheek instead. Strawberries and jalapeño's don't really mix.

Not only her kisses tasted though. Her skin had a taste too. I was told as a kid, after eating three garlic cloves, that the smell of what you eat oozes out through your skin. Hence why I smelled like garlic for four days. When I licked my arm, I tasted like garlic. Well, the same went for Ziva. After she ate a bag of peaches (which she did often), her neck tasted and smelled like peaches. I'd sit next to her on the couch, my head on her shoulder, and I'd lick her neck. She would always laugh, and bat me away. When I knew she'd forgot about me licking her neck, I'd move my head back onto her shoulder and lick her neck again. This time, she would laugh and tackle me onto the couch.

Once, I gave her a hickey. After having sex. She tasted like sweat and, as corny as this sounds, lust. I don't know how she tasted like lust... but she did. Mostly just sweat, but there was something else in there that got me thinking. Nothing; not the sight of her, smell of her, or sound of her after having sex compared to how she tasted as I kissed her golden skin.

And nothing compared to her.

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**Yeah, I know it's super short and everything. But, I greatly enjoyed how this ended. And since there are only five basic senses, this won't be continued. NOT up for discussion.**

**I have another idea, but for the time being I'm taking a break from this. I have my best friend coming up from San Diego, and I'm totally STUCK on Forever Tomorrow. So, kind of a break. I'll be back though, and I have another collection of oneshots that I'm doing. Thank you to M E Wofford for the idea too. I already have one chapter planned out, and the idea in my head. :)**

**So, for now, this shall be the last time I saw this for a while.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Reviews?**


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